School Shootout
by Shadowgirl119
Summary: Set after the first movie. There's trouble at Sam's school, will he survive without the Autobots?
1. Chapter 1: Here we go

**School Shootout**

Chapter 1

**Okay this idea just popped into my head. I think It'll only be a few chapters long once I get it all written--but who knows.**

NOTE: This is set after the first movie and before the second.

Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright to Transformers or its characters.

* * *

I was terrified not for my life but for the love of my life, Mikaela…and my car. Not that I could see what was happening to either one. I was lying on the floor of my math class with my hands tied behind my back and my ankles lashed together.

It was of course, ironic—the sheriff's son of all people going on a shooting rampage and using the guns and restraints meant for criminals on his fellow classmates.

I heard hysterical sobbing coming from across the room. I twisted trying to see who it was but it only caused the ties to cut deeper. Half the class seemed to be praying, 'Oh, God' had been said so much it became background music. The other half was silent…perhaps in shock...or perhaps they were playing dead…

The only thing I could think about was Mikaela. I wanted to scream her name outloud, I wanted to go to her and make sure she was safe—I could just imagine her lying in a pool of blood. I tried to push thoughts of her dying out of my head. I knew Mikaela should have been in her chemistry class just down the hall. I hoped she had gotten out. Somebody had pulled the fire alarm about thirty minutes after my classroom was hit. That was when I heard the first gunshot. I tried to avoid thinking about what had happened to the person that had been brave enough to pull the alarm. I wish I had thought of pulling the alarm then I could be sure that Mikaela had gotten out safely and that she should would be with Bee and that they would both keep each other from doing something stupid.

I still had nightmares of how Bee had been tortured by Sector Seven. I knew that with all the media and camera's surrounding the school that if he'd tried to help me he'd have to blow his cover—it would be disasterous. Before this I had always felt so reassured that Bee was out there guarding me; that I didn't have to worry about Decepticons. Who knew I had to worry about my classmates? Bee seemed so far away now. I knew he was only four walls and two hallways away. But he seemed so far, so far…

Okay, that was enough wallowing. I may be a squishy little human but damnit I killed Megatron and I wasn't going to be defeated by a bunch of depressed losers. I would get free, I'd make the Autobots proud.

I started struggling to get my wrists free again. I strained against the ties with all the strength I could. They just wouldn't break—it was ridiculous—they were only a thin strip of plastic. I could just imagine the looks on the Autobots faces if they heard I was defeated by a strip of plastic I'm sure they would be understanding---after all, humans were so very fragile. But I didn't want their understanding—their pity… I wanted their respect. More gunshots came from outside the room I realized that if I didn't get free soon I wouldn't even get a chance to see them again.

I once again struggled trying to free myself as screams broke out around me. The people around also increased their efforts to get free.

Since the wrist restraints wouldn't give I tried breaking the ankle restraints. I started moving my legs off to the left and twisting a little to find a better angle of leverage. I felt one of my shoes hit the leg of a chair.

I cursed in pain as I hit my head on the chair. I stopped struglling as I saw lights flashing before my eyes. It reminded me of when the Prime and the others had first crashed landed on Earth. I could see them and Mikaela standing proud and tall in my mind. I forced myself to calm down.

I suddenly had a thought—if I could get my shoes off I might just be able to slip the tie off. I tried to brace the leg of the chair in between my ankle and the lip of my shoe so I could slid it off. I quickly realized I needed to be back a few more inches in order for my plan to work. Since my hands were tied behind my back I found myself wriggling and flopping into position. I let out a sigh of relief when I got it right…then I realized I'd have to move up in order to get the shoe off. I braced my right knee against the carpet and jerked my leg up hard as far as the tie would allow. I cursed as my knee slipped and I felt it started to burn. Even though I couldn't see it I knew it was going to have a wicked rug burn on it. But on the upside I had one shoe off. I moved over to the chair on the other side of the aisle and repeat the procedure to get the my right shoe off.

I started sliding the tie down. It got stuck; it wouldn't go over my heel. I could feel it pressing into my flesh and I knew it was going to be bruised in the morning. I pushed past the pain and kept trying to slid it off. I suddenly felt a sharp pain and something liquid running down my foot. The tie was off. I let out a breath of air I didn't realize I had been holding. My foot was throbbing now. I wiggled around and looked at it, it wasn't bleeding too bad—it was more of a bad scrape really, though I wouldn't want Ratchet seeing it.

I moved up into a sitting position and looked around in triumph. I saw a pile of cellphones they had taken from us lying on the teacher's desk.

Hmmm, I might actually survive this…


	2. Chapter 2: Almost free

School Shootout

Chapter Two

** 'Thank you' to everyone that reviewed--Jazzkid, VeronicaD13, , Marinelife37, TransformersLover95, KnucklesRedFury207.2, jodz92, hauntedpumpkin56, Sarah, FishieGurl, and xJustAnotherDreamerx.**

**Sorry it took so long to update my computer got a really bad virus and is broken right now This is short chapter, I'll try to post another longer one before the end of the week.**

NOTE: I realized I didn't name the shooters in the last chapter—my bad—So were going to say that the leader is Rilson and his friends are Steve and Paul. I'll go back and fix that later.

* * *

I flinched as I put weight on my bruised foot. The pain quickly receded into a dull throb. I carefully started threading my way around my classmates to get to the teachers desk.

Damn, people were starting to notice me moving around. They were looking at me with shocked faces and pleading eyes.

"Sssshhh" I hissed at them to stop them from calling out to me. I couldn't help them if I got killed. Surprisingly, they all quieted and it became almost eerily quiet. I hoped that the shooters were busy keeping an eye on a different classroom. Then I thought of Mikaela and how she could be trapped somewhere having God-knows-what done to her and I hoped that they were surrounded by SWAT bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds.

I paused as I reached the teachers desk. Now that I was at the front of the room I could see that the door to the hallway was closed. I thanked God for small miracles. I could see the legs of our teacher, Mrs. Johnson, sticking out from the far side of the desk.

My hands were still tied behind my back so I started looking for some scissors or sharp objects to cut the plastic tie but I couldn't see anything on top of the desk. I went around to look in the desk drawer's. As I did I felt something wet on the bottom of my foot. I looked down and saw that I was standing in a large pool of blood. I stared at it in horror and though I didn't want to look closer at Mrs. Johnson I felt my eyes being drawn to her body.

Her neck had been slashed open. Her eyes were open and they seem to be staring straight at me. Her mouth was open so that it looked like see was silently screaming.

I blanched and bolted away from the desk and its hidden horror but I couldn't stop staring. I saw bloody footprints on the floor. My footprints. I furiously started wiping my feet on the carpet trying to get the blood off.

It won't come off, it wontcome off, itwontcomeoff. I nearly screamed as I back up into the wall.

I was heaving, trying not to throw up while simultaneously trying to breathe. I finally manage to look away but looking out at my classmates bound and lying on the floor was in some ways worse. I could just picture them being mercilessly slaughtered. They were all staring at me again. Those pleading eyes were boring into my soul.

They didn't know. She must have been killed when Steve and Paul forced us to line up against the back wall. I pictured Rilson covering her mouth and slashing her throat. I fought back the urge to throw up again.

"What are you waiting for?" Somebody whispered from the floor.

Push past it, Sam. Make the Autobots proud. I let my mind wander back to good times with--playing around at the car wash with Bee, getting back at Trent, drive-in movie dates with Mikaela—I found myself inching back towards the desk.

I took a deep breath and stepped over the pool of blood. I had to turn away from the desk in order to use my hands. I focused on the ceiling as I felt around for the drawer handles. I brushed one and grabbed onto it. I tugged—it won't budge. Damn it, it was locked. I ground my teeth together as I bent my knees and moved down to try the next drawer. It stubbornly refused to move as well. I groaned out loud, why me?

I glanced back and looked at the desk there was one drawer left. Please, please God, let it be unlocked. I held my breath as I fumbled for the handle. I tugged gently on it…nothing. I yanked on it with all my might straining my wrist against the ties, it gave and slid open with a clang. I stopped myself from falling face-forward and took a deep breath. I quickly inspected the contents of the drawers—rubber bands, sticky notes, pens, pencils, some scattered paperclips, thumbtacks, and a bottle of pink nail polish and nail file that looked suspiciously like the ones Tiffany Hopsen had had confiscated from her last class period when she wasn't paying attention. There wasn't a pair of scissor in sight. Stupid 'safe school' policies.

I felt like bashing my head against the wall but I figured with my luck it would bring Rilson and his pyscho friends back. I focused on the drawer—I had to get free somehow. Maybe I could use the thumbtacks—stab it repeatedly until it got weak enough I could break it? Then it hit me the nail file, its strong enough to grind down nails it could work on plastic, right? I grabbed it and then some thumbtacks, just in case.

I quickly scanned the cell phones on the desk and found mine. I nudged the ones around it away with my chin. Since my hands were full I was forced to pick it up with my teeth. I headed to the back of room where everyone else was waiting.

I gently lowered the cell phone down on a chair and then sat down on the floor. I leaned casually against the chair and put my legs together like they were still bound. I made sure to face the hallway door so anybody coming in wouldn't be able to see my working on the plastic tie. I set the tacks down and tried to find the best position to use the file. It was easy but I found one that seemed to work well and I set to work moving it back and forth.

* * *

My hand muscles were burning, they weren't use to being twisted and used repeatedly like this. The file was scrapping the skin on my fingers but the sound of it scratching away at the plastic was music to my ears. There was a small pile of white plastic on the floor—and it was growing larger. Soon, I was going to be free, free, FREE.

There were sirens now; I knew the cops were out there surrounding the entire school. All we had to do was get free and get to them.

I flinched and scrapped my wrist with the file as my cell phone started vibrating on the chair. It wasn't supposed to be ON, Mrs. Johnson was tyrannical about us not using cellphones in class. I distinctly remembered turning it off. I twisted to look at the caller id—it displayed one word "Bee."


	3. Chapter 3: Hey Bee

School Shootout

Chapter Three

**Okay, I've noticed that when I try to write longer chapters I get stalled and I end up not updating so if I write short chapters you're just going to have to live with it.**

Note: I'm using brackets for text msg's/autobot communications.

* * *

I watched in dismay as the screen switched to "1 missed call, 1 new msg." I stared at it longingly wishing I could press those little buttons and read Bee's message. As the screen faded to conserve energy I renewed my attempts to get free. Time seemed to slow down. The muscles in my hand started cramping but I pushed past it. I paused once when a sharp scream pierced the air. It was in the opposite direction from Mikaela's classroom. I felt wave of relief followed by a sharp pang of guilt, even if it wasn't Mikaela being hurt it was somebody.

They had no right to do this. I fueled my rage and despair into breaking the tie. Stupid, stupid jerks who do they think they are?—everybody has problems and theirs certainly weren't bigger then my mech-sized red optic problems and it's not like the majority of us had ever done anything to them.

I ground my teeth and strained once more against the tie, I felt the plastic give just a little bit—I twisted my arms so there was greater leverage and tried again. The tie suddenly broke, my hands flew apart and my arm slammed into the chair before I could stop it. I hesitated only a moment to rub my wrists and arms, trying to get some circulation back into them before I snatched up the phone…

* * *

Bumblebee felt hopelessly lost. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't help Sam, he couldn't help Mikaela, he couldn't even move to see if they actually needed his help. He glared at the cop cars and television reporters. They could move anywhere they wanted, yet they just stood there gaping and staring with morbid curiosity. Didn't they realize people were being hurt and killed inside?

I scanned yet again, desperately trying to find Sam's or Mikaela's life signs but everybody's heightened state made it nearly impossible to distinguish patterns…but I just had to do _something_. I even turned my audio receptors up to try and hear his voice. Though I hadn't heard his yet and what I had heard made my spark burn. I had downloaded thousands of gigabytes of data on human cruelty and had even been on the receiving end of it but nothing compared to this not only human hurting human but youngling hurting youngling.

[Prime to Bumblebee]

[Yes, Prime?]

[Ratchet, Ironhide, Lennox and Epps are enroute to you now. Since my alt-mode would cause confusion and trouble I'm going to park a few blocks away and monitor---]

[Prime, shouldn't we be doing something?] I broke in, unable to contain myself any longer.

Prime was silent for a moment before answering softly, [I know that they are your wards and you care about them but we can't help them now. If we were to transform …it would be disastrous…be patient and trust in your wards abilities and talents]

[The only talent Sam has is for getting into trouble…I don't like sitting here helpless when they could be in trouble.]

[I know Bumblebee, but most of the kids did make it out safely. They may very well be at the make-shift command center talking to the police—Lennox and Epps will be there soon, you just need to be patient old friend.]

Silence stretched between us, each of us lost in our own thoughts before Prime spoke again, [Is Sam's cell phone still turn off?]

[Yes, and Mikaela's is on but when I triangulated its position I found it was in her locker.] I answered miserably. A sudden thought hit me.

[ I could break into the cell phone system and write some override codes], I suggested hopefully.

[Hmmm, it's not a bad idea…but if he was in danger and it went off it might cause problems. Go ahead and create the codes just in case. In the meanwhile, stay put and wait for the others to arrive.]

I hacked into the system and two minutes later I had found Sam's cell phone and figured out how to override the simple human technology and then carefully covered up my tracks so no alarms or flags had gone up. Once I knew that I could override it and possibly talk to Sam it took a lot of control not to use it. It hit me then that if instead of simply turning it I could put it on vibrate so it wouldn't cause as much of a problem. I spent another minute rewriting the code. I hesitated only a few seconds as my processor calculated the odds of it bringing harm to Sam. But even seeing that they were greatly in Sam's favor I couldn't stop the feeling of dread that was coming over me. I sent the override codes before I talked myself out of it. I listened to it ringing…1…2…3…

I stopped as my fear level notched up. It had been a long hope. He would have turned it on if he had it with him or if he could of. I decided to leave a text message for him …just in case. I wracked my brain for something to say before I realized the words had always been inside of me. I sent them into the cyberworld.

I quickly looked over the police and reporters before reluctantly turning my attention back to my scans.

* * *

My wrists were red and painful, but I was free and that was what was important. I opened my phone and quickly located Bee's message.

_Hello Sam, I hope you read this message and that you are alright. I know that wherever you are you are making me proud—and I am very proud to be your guardian…and like I've said before if you ever need me I'm only a phone call away._

I started to speed dial Bee before I realized that talking aloud might not be good because that sicko Rilson and his gang might be listening outside in the hall and I knew for a fact everyone in the classroom would be listening in to my conversation. I quickly scrolled over to the text message screen but I froze when I saw the blank screen—what in the hell was I going to write? Hi Bee, I'm being held prisoner by a crazed lunatic and his friends and they've already killed the teacher. Yeah I could see that going down real well. A sudden vision of BumbleBee being attacked by Sector Seven ran through my head. I couldn't let Bee risk himself for me.

[B, r u there?]

[SAM!, are you alright?]

[im fine] I replied, deciding to ignore the scrapes and forming bruises on my wrists and ankles.

[Where are you?]

[stuck in math class] Oh boy, I realized I really was stuck in hell, [rilson tied me up but I got free]

[Can you get out of the school?]

[don't know—but everybody else is tied up too I cant leave them] I left out mentioning poor Mrs. Johnson and resisted the urge to glance up to the front of the classroom.

[Can you get them free?]

Oh crap, I realized I had never thought that far in advance. I couldn't file the ties off of them—it would take forever. I'd have to find something to free them with and the idea of what I'd have to do…

[maybe. B im scared] I felt foolish typing it but I couldn't stop myself.

[I know but I'm here for you and I'll help you in any way I can]

[ok]

I looked around at everybody still lying tied up on the floor still blessedly quiet. I took a deep breath and headed towards the front I paused when I was roughly in the middle of them.

"Okay everybody," I whispered, "I'm going to go into the next classroom and find something to cut the ties with."

I expected them to fight, to panic, to demand I stay and help them but they just gave me nervous nods. With nothing left to do in the classroom I tightened my grip on my phone and headed to the hallway door. I purposely forced myself to look behind the teacher's desk as I passed it. I couldn't fail them, they were counting on me and the price of failure was too high.


	4. Chapter 4: Are we free, yet?

School Shootout

Chapter Four

**Sorry I'm late in updating this chapter my brother has became addicted to this site and spends anywhere from 8-12 hours a day on it. Which makes using the computer difficult.**

* * *

I slowly opened the hallway door, trying no to make a single sound. When I had it open a couple feet I glanced out. There didn't seem to be anyone in the hallway. I forced myself to slide out. God, I felt so vulnerable outside of the classroom. I felt like Rilson or one of his friends would show up any minute and shoot me. I found the strength to close the door behind me--leaving me totally alone. I instinctively tightened my grip on my cell phone, my link to Bee.

As if he was reading my mind, Bee chose that moment to send me another text.

[Stay calm, Sam, I have located you on my sensors]

Calm, calm, I could do calm. Okay, I just needed to find something to use to cut the plastic restraints. I started looking at all the closed classroom doors around me—math, social science, biology, home ec—home ec they did girly stuff like sewing in there—they had to have scissors in there. I crept slowly towards the classroom; keeping close to the wall like I was in some sort of James Bond movie though it sure as hell didn't feel like one. When I reached the classroom I saw the door was closed I prayed it wasn't locked as I reached for the handle.

I breathed a sigh of relief as it readily opened as I quickly ducked inside. The first thing I noticed was three guys lying tied up on the floor. Two of them looked like juniors and I knew one was a senior, though I had no idea what their names where.

"Hey, you guys…" I whispered.

They struggled to face me and then gave me scared looks—It stopped me in my tracks before I realized—they thought I was part of Rilson's sicko gang.

"Hey, its okay, okaaay, my name is Sam, I got tied up in my math class but I got free," I held up my bruised and scraped wrists as proof, "I'm going to help you get free, are there any scissor around here?"

"umm…yeah…over in that drawer" the senior kid said pointing with his head.

I quickly but quietly made my way over to the indicated drawer and found several scissors. I grabbed the largest one and went back to the guys on the floor.

"So what are doing in the home ec classroom?" I whispered as I started to cut the plastic restraints

"Thought good way to meet babes." The senior kid, as I named him, lamely joked.

I froze as I realized there were no girls in the classroom just these three guys.

"Where are all the girls?"

No one answered me. They all looked away. Finally one of the juniors broke.

"Rilson…he…he took them away…"

I finished freeing them though my hands had started shaking. That wasn't good, that wasn't good at all.

"Okay," I said shakily, "Do you know where Mrs. Johnson's classroom is?"

"Yeah it's just down the hall"

"Alright…okay… grab all the scissors in the drawer and go there and start freeing everyone there---Okay."

"What? We need to get out of here! NOW" The junior kid started panicking and backing away from me.

"Listen to me," I grabbed his shirt, "Mrs. Johnson is dead. They slashed her throat and a lot of other people may die if we don't help them…Do you want to live the rest of life knowing you let people DIE just because you wanted to save yourself."

"…Nooo…"

"Okay then, HELP me…"

"We will," The senior kid broke in. He crossed over to the scissor drawer and started putting bunches of them in his pockets. "Where are you going?"

"…I need to go check on another classroom…I'll meet up with you later…"

I went back to the hallway door and opened it slowly. I nodded to those behind me that the hallway was clear. We slid out and I watched as the rest of them crept towards Mrs. Johnson's classroom. I turned and started going the opposite direction…towards the chemistry classrooms. I had to find Mikaela. I had to know…I just had to…

The hallway was eerie. I was used to it being full of kids, running to class, making out, and pulling pranks on each other—now it was silent, there was no on in sight and you could a pin drop. I jumped when my phone started vibrating unexpectedly.

[Sam, where are you going?]

[to find Mikaela]

[Be careful, you are so very fragile]

[only compared to you guys] I typed back glad for the distraction.

I reached the end of the hallway. I took a deep breath before turning the corner…I had to bite back a scream. It was like Mission City all over again. There was blood everywhere and glass from a broken display cabinet. When I was able to force my eyes off the ground and look at wall I saw the fire alarm. It too was covered in blood and rivulets and ran down the wall. I slowly walked around the bodies and the broken glass. I continued down the hall.

[Sam are you alright? Your heart rate just jumped]

[fine]

Suddenly talking to Bee wasn't all that reassuring.

Mikaela's classroom was the third one down. I noticed the door was wide open as I approached it. As I got closer I realized there was no one in it. I entered it and looked around just to be sure. I felt a little hope—maybe she had gotten out when the fire alarm was pulled. She probably had…she definitely got out…

I turned and had nearly started running back to my own classroom when I heard someone start coughing. As I listened I realize it was coming from down the hall by the steps down to the first level of the school. I couldn't see from all the way down here. I was debating whether or not to creep forward and investigate when I heard the sound of someone sharpening a knife. I was definitely not going that way…

I headed back to my classroom. Terrified that every second I was going to get caught. I paused as I reached the door to my classroom I could here a soft commotion going on inside; as I slowly pushed the door open everything went silent.

"Its okay, it's just me"

As I looked around almost everyone was free and the way they were looking towards the front of the classroom I knew they had found Mrs. Johnson's body. The all looked panicky and I'm sure I did too.

"What are we going to do?" "We have to get out of here," "Won't the cops come?"

"Ssshhh, alright everyone" The senior kid whispered loudly, taking charge, "We'll sneak down the hallway, and go down and out the side doors."

"No" I whispered back, "I heard one of them on the stairs guarding it."

"Oh God, oh god,' "We stuck on the second floor?" "We're going to die here"

"Sshhh" I hissed, "We need to stay calm and think of a plan."

Everyone was staring at me again…I wish they wouldn't…it made it so much harder to think and stay calm. "Okay, so the first thing we need to figure out is how to get from the second floor to the first floor."

Everyone was silent trying to come up with a plan. The silence seemed to stretch on for hours before someone weakly suggested tied our jackets together to make a rope and then climbing down. It was ludicrous of course but as I gazed over to the window I saw the tree branches. I quickly crossed over to the window and looked out. The tree was close to the school overlooking the back football fields. As I studied the branches I realized it had been planted too close to the school. It had grow bigger and bigger and almost all the branches on the school side had had to be cut. I found the thickest one, about ten inches, and had been cut off about a two and half feet before it had collided with the school. It was on a diagonal to the window but it looked like it might work.

I turned back to the classroom.

"Anybody like climbing trees?"

* * *

It seemed like a crazy idea, a desperate idea, but as we considered our options we had very few. And we decided we might as well try it. Someone came up with the idea of using one the large bookcase shelves as a plank and another one suggested that we sent the best climbers first so that they could help people closer to the ground where there was less branches. So within five minutes we were all crowded around the window sending out our first volunteers. We watched as the carefully climb they way towards the trunk and slid down. I winced as the first one was forced to jump from the lowest branch to the ground—it look like it was a long fall. But he picked himself up and gave us a thumbs-up sign. After that everyone crowded trying to be the next to get out. But after a lot of ssshusshing and reassuring they calmed down and waited somewhat patiently.

We had about half the class out when we heard a gunshot and screams from down the hall. Oh God, No. Everyone left inside the classroom started panicking and hyperventilating and I had to clamp my hand over a girl's mouth before she started screaming hysterically. Everyone started climbing faster and crowding each other trying to get out. I prayed Rilson wouldn't come in here before we could get out.

Five more, just five more people. I realized I couldn't breathe, I was hyperventilating. I was so focused on the window I never heard the classroom door open. But the sound of the gun cocking caught my attention and I turned around just in time to see the gun come up. The next thing I knew the classroom dissolved into gunshots, screams, and flying glass.


	5. Chapter 5: Here we go, again

School Shootout

Chapter Five

** 'Thank you, thank you' to everyone that reviewed. I've worked out the rest of the storyline and it'll be a little bloody and horror-inducing but I think it'll stay at a T rating.**

* * *

Everything seemed to slow down. One minute the gun came up and pointed at us and the next the window was shattering behind us. I didn't even remember dropping my cell phone all I can recall was my hands coming up to protect my face and crouching down toward the floor away from the flying glass. I heard screams all around me…then I realized I was screaming as well.

"SHUT UP"

Rilson shot again, this time hitting the ceiling and causing plaster debris to rain down on us.

"Well, well…what do we have here—an escape attempt, you don't like High School?—don't like the feeling that anything bad could happen to you? That nothing good is ever going to happen? That you can't trust anyone around you? Huh?"

"ANSWER ME!"

"It was him, it was him, it was allll him…" I turned and saw the junior boy from home ec babbling and pointing at me. "He got himself free, and he made us all do this crazy stuff—I swear, I SWEAR, I nothing to with it, please, please…"

I felt my mouth go dry. Rilson slowly turned the gun towards me.

"Sam, isn't it?"

"…yeah…"

"I know you--your dating that bimbo jock girl---you think you're better then me, Sam."

It was more of a statement then a question but I knew that if I wanted to live I shouldn't antagonize him.

"No, no…I just have a lot of luck…luck, really…I mean I totally don't think..."

"Shut up!" He laughed, "God, I love saying that…"

He just stood there looking at us, enjoying his sick little game of life and death. A minute or two passed as we all held still, waiting to see what he would do.

"Alright, so it seems that Sam here is responsible for all that has been going on is that right?"

The junior nodded furiously as he rocked back in forth in near panic and I thought I saw another girl nodding behind him.

"Well it's only fair that he's punished and not you then—see I'm a fair person, not like some of the people around here." He pulled some more of the plastic restraints out of one of his jean pockets and tossed them to the junior. "Here tie up the rest"

The junior froze and looked cautiously at the ties. Rilson let out a sigh of annoyance and twitched the gun in his direction. He grabbed the ties and started doing as he was told.

I glanced around the room furiously I couldn't let this happen again. I had to do something. I briefly considered jumping out of the window but as I glanced at it the jagged edges of the glass and long distance to the ground quickly squished that idea.

As I felt the junior touch my wrist I got an unreasonable urge to punch him for giving in so quickly--for betraying me, but deep down I know he was just scared. I knew I was scared.

Rilson put a restraint on the junior after everyone else had been restrained. Then he gave what I knew had to be the vicious grin I had ever seen. He walked over and then without warning punched me in the jaw. I felt the blood running down from my lip before I tasted it. It would have been so surreal if it hadn't been for the blossoming pain that clouded my vision.

"Come on, I have a lovely little place where I like to put trouble-makers…"

* * *

"Lennox!"

Lennox turned around in time to see Mikaela running towards him and Ironhide; he quickly moved to greet her.

"Mikaela, are you okay?"

"Well, if you count getting shot at by a bunch of crazed teenagers and being held captive by a bunch of bureaucrats and cops fun —then, yeah, I'm great….How about you?"

Lennox stopped in his tracks and eyed her defensive stance and wisely decided not to reply.

"Where's Sam?" Fear and panic had slightly crept into her voice

"He's still inside, don't worry, Bumblebee just radioed Ironhide and Ratchet and he says he managed to get a hold of Sam on his cell phone. Evidently, he's fine and is trying to free some of his classmates."

Mikaela let out a long groan and covered her face, "You know this is all your guys' fault" as she pointed first towards Lennox and then Ironhide.

"What? We didn't do anything."

"You kept putting visions of GI Joe and super soldier into Sam's head and now look what he's doing. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is in there? Those freaks are crazy, they've shot and killed at least one person. I know I WAS THERE."

"Mikaela, calm down, Sam is doing what has to do. Would you really want him to leave his classmates behind?"

She glared at me in silence, though, she seemed to be calming down and thinking this through more rationally. She looked around at the chaos of cop cars and ambulances. I realized she was about to break down, I needed to find something to distract her with until she could process everything that was going on.

"Mikaela, I need your help. Bumblebee's having trouble with this whole not-being-able-to-help-Sam-thing and he can't transform without blowing everyone's cover. Do you think you can go over there and help him stay calm and make sure he doesn't do anything crazy."

She was silent, she didn't react to my words at all.

"Mikaela?"

"Yeah…sure…"

"Okay, Bumblebee should be able to keep you up on all the latest developments."

I carefully watched her as she went over to the student parking lot. My heart went out to her, it wasn't easy to have someone you loved in a dangerous position and no one to help them…but I wasn't going to let her do something foolish and lose her too.

I sighed as I lost sight of her and went back inside Ironhide's cab.

"Hey 'Hide, could you radio Bumblebee and tell him to keep an eye on Mikaela."

"Of course. Do you believe she attempt something?"

"I dunno know, but it's better to be safe then sorry."

"Hmmmph,…Bee's just radioed back, he wants to know what the human's next plan is."

"There not having any luck getting them to negotiate, so it looks like they'll probably send SWAT in."

Ironhide was silent as he looked up the word SWAT.

"Well, it looks like they have a reasonable rate of recovery." He stated it grimly, his frustration over the whole situation showing through.

"Yeah, let's just hope Rilson didn't learn too much police procedure from being a sheriff's son…"

"You know, I could use my cannons."

"…We'll save them for Plan B…"

* * *

I had thought being tied up was uncomfortable but being not only tied up but marched down a hall with a gun-carrying maniac at one's back was much, much worse. I had no idea where Rilson was behind me or what he was planning. I felt like I was walking on death row towards an electric chair.

My chest felt tight and I noticed that I was once again breathing faster then normal and I was trembling slightly. This experience was definitely not going to be good for my health.

'Calm down, Sam,' I swear I could almost hear Bee's voice in my head, 'calm down.' I was so sorry about Bee. I knew that if I died he would be devastated. He'd always been so patient with me through all of my screw-ups and crazy Sam-ness. He was the absolute perfect friend and how I had ever managed to gain his friendship and respect was beyond me and I'd never really thought about it before. I had always taken him for granted. I would have given anything to talk to him and tell him how I felt—and God, Mikaela, I loved her—had I told her that I loved her this morning? I couldn't remember now. I hoped I had. I hoped they would both forgive me for getting myself killed.

"Turn here"

I flinched as Rilson touched the gun to my back. I turned and stared in disbelieve at where he wanted me to go…the boys locker room. I gave him an incredulous look and got a sharp push in response.

"No window's for snipers, and its highly secured—so don't even hope of being rescued." He reminded me slightly of Lennox and his military friends and not in any way that was good for me.

I kept silent as I was heard in towards the lockers. I heard distant crying and as we rounded the bend I saw girls, lots of girls. It was shocking to see so many in such a small place especially a place where girls were never-ever supposed to be. I spotted Paul off to the side by the sinks. He was also holding a gun to his side and watching what appeared to be the entire cheerleading team putting on make-up. As I looked I realized the constant stream of tears was smearing their make-up and making their faces take on an unnatural look before they wiped it off and started re-applying it again.

"Admiring my bride?"

"WHAT?" The words slipped out of my mouth but Rilson didn't seem to care. He seemed absurdly pleased.

"Tiffany. We've been unofficially engaged for the last four weeks, we had to keep it secret of course what with all the jerks and immature children in school but now, NOW we can finally admit it and get married."

I tore my eyes from Tiffany's masquera-stained face to Rilson's—he truly believed what he was saying. I felt pity for Tiffany. I didn't know much about aside from her being, as Miles once put it, a 'jock concubine' but I knew she was in an even worse position then I was at the moment. I said a quick prayer that she got out of this alive--that we all got out of this alive.

"Hey Paul, take Sam here and put him in the closet, so he can't cause any more trouble."

I was a little thankful when I was roughly shoved into a dark locker room closet and heard the door being locked behind me...I was finally away from those maniacs.

"_Witdicky_?"

Oh God, I started turning but I already knew who was in the closet with me. This was without question the worse day of my life…


	6. Chapter 6: In the closet

**School Shootout**

Chapter Six

**Sorry for the long delay, this chapter was harder to write then I thought and I got sidetracked on other projects.**

***P.S. I hope I'm not using (--) and (...) too much; if it bothers you and makes it hard to read let me know.***

WARNING: This chapter does contain 'coarse' language because I couldn't write Trent without it. I hope Trent's in character. (not that there's much to base his character on)

* * *

"Trent?"

Oh my God, I was trapped in a broom closet with Trent. Oh no, no, no—this was so NOT happening.

"Yeah, who else would look this good, loser."

"Well…considering its pitch black in here –I'm pretty sure anyone else would look better."

He growled suddenly and I wisely backed off.

"You're a fucking loser, Witlicky—the only reason you have that thing you call a pathetic smidge of a life is because of your car…and things have been known to happen to cars."

"What!—Is that a threat? Your threatening me?"

"Yeeeah, you IDIOT."

"Trent, we're being held hostage by a bunch of maniacs—MANIACS—with …with guns and knives and they can KILL us at any moment without any freaking warning—and all you're doing is sitting in here and threatening me and my car. Which is by the way—its reeeallly stupid to try to hurt my car, believe, me…"

"Shut up," I stared at the direction where his voice was coming from. It was hard to make out anything in the darkness of the closet but my eyes were slowly starting to adjust, "In case, you haven't noticed we're both kinda tied up at the moment."

Even though I couldn't see him I just knew he was sneering at me.

"Yeah…well…it didn't stop me before—and its definitely not stopping me now."

Trent just snorted. "If it didn't stop you before then why are you in here?"

"Because…Because…" Damn it, there was no way in hell he would believe the truth…somedays I swear he didn't even believe some of us were human beings. "Because—I got free but then I got caught before I could escape. Which is why I'm stuck with you."

"Oh joy."

"Yeah, well—how'd you get in here? Surrender and start screaming at the sight of a gun." I knew I should have stopped arguing with him and continued trying to get free but I just couldn't stop myself—it was Trent.

"Wow, is that what you did?"

"You know, Trent, you are an unbelievable JERK."

"Am I, Witlicky, well at least I managed to put a dent in Steve's face before_ I_ got caught."

Arggh, if I could see his smug little face I'd be putting a dent in it—even if I had to headbut him to do it.

"Okay, you know what, this—this, right here—isn't helping—we could be KILLED at any moment, we need to stop bickering and get the HELL out of here."

"How many times do I have to remind you, idiot-- we're tied up."

"Okay, fine—is there any scissors or like sharp tools in here?"

"Oh, why didn't I think of that?" His voice practically dripped with sarcasm. "---It's a _broom closet_—as in brooms, mops, rags. But maybe you could dress up as Cinderella and wish for a fairy godmother to come rescue us." Forget Rilson and the others killing us; we might just end up killing each other.

"Be a jackass like usual—I'm getting out of here."

I squinted in the darkness, I could make out vague shapes now and there was a thin strip of light coming from around the door I moved cautiously over to what looked like some shelves. It was full of plastic jugs and containers. I moved slowly along the shelves looking for anything that could help me.

"Hey watch it." I flinched from the closeness of Trent's voice. The closet was a lot smaller then I had thought…though in the darkness it still seemed big.

"Sooorry, it's—you know—a little dark in here…are you tied a shelf?"

I leaned in slightly closer and saw that my suspicion was correct. Trent had his arms in front of him around a pole and then his wrists tied with what looked like those accursed plastic ties. It hit me suddenly—he couldn't move…he couldn't attack me. It lifted my spirits a tiny smidge.

He stayed silent for once and I gave him a wide berth as I continued my search. I had only made it three steps before my already bruised foot slammed into something and I nearly went sprawling face-forward.

"Owww, owwww,owww…"

I started hopping on one foot trying to make the other one feel better. I froze when I hear Trent laughing behind me. But rather then being angry at him I was surprised. It wasn't a mean fake laugh—it was a real laugh, I'd never heard him laugh for real since elementary school.

"Glad I could amuse you." I grumbled as I gingerly put my foot down and then bent down to see what I had hit.

"You always amuse me, dork…" It was a cardboard box, it looked like somebody had already cut through he packaging tape because the flaps were poking up slightly, "…like the way you think you're good enough for Mikaela, even if she is going through a 'get a loser to worship me' phase." ...And Trent was back to his normal self in less then sixty seconds.

I decided I might as well look inside the box while I was there. Mikaela—No, no, no—I wasn't going to start thinking about her, I couldn't start thinking about her—it hurt to much. I need to focus---box, open, contents.

I couldn't lift the flaps with my hands so I settled for pushing them open with my forehead.

"That's right, I bet she makes you carry her purse like a nice, little whipped puppy dog."

Ignore him, ignore him. I almost didn't hear the small metal clank. I realized something had been on top of the box. It was too dark to make out what it was so I turned around felt with my fingers until I found it.

"…and, God, she can be stupid."

"Hey, SHUT UP, Mikaela is great and utterly amazing girl and just because you didn't treat her right and she dumped your sorry ass doesn't mean you can talk bad about her—...It's a box cutter knife."

"_What?"_

It was a box cutter knife I could feel the button for the retractable blade. I hit it and heard the blade slid out—it was a sweet sound to my ears. I quickly moved my grip up on the handle so that I could cut through the restraints. Hah hah, stupid Trent, look who was laughing now.

…Shit, I couldn't get the blade all the way up to the restraint.

"_What knife_…Witwicky?"

I swallowed and took a deep breath before I answering, "I found a box cutter knife but I can't get it in the right position to cut my restraints."

"Give it to me, I can probably get mine off."

'Give it to him?' He wanted me to give him, my-arch-nemesis-make-my-life-a-living-hell-all-through-school...a box cutter knife with me defenseless. I could hear Ironhide's voice repeating inside my head—'Never trust your enemy to be anything but your enemy.' But what other option was there?

"And how do I know you're not just going to run away and leave me here to die?"

"Come on, Witwicky, give me the knife." I had a sudden revelation—he was scared. I hadn't heard it before when he were bickering but now that I was paying attention I could just barely make out the desperation and terror he was hiding.

I racked my brain for any other solution but there just wasn't any…I had to trust Trent. With a curse, I slowly started moving back towards him. I couldn't see where my hands were behind me so I had to back slowly toward where I thought Trent's hands were. I flinched when I felt his hands touch mine, they were rough and ice cold. I reluctantly loosened my grip on the knife and let him have it before moving away a few good steps. Trent may have been as scared and desperate as I was but he was still dangerous.

"Fuck, Damn it!"

I groaned at Trent's violent outburst. "Don't tell me—you can't get them off either…did you try twisting your hands to get…you know…better leverage."

"Yeah, tried that and all I got was a nice fucking cut on my hand."

That unnerving feeling that I was going to die came back to me. It was like before in the hallway but not quite as strong. I needed to get the restraint off…oh no…no...I couldn't…I wouldn't…it was unthinkable.

"Could you cut off mine?"

"What?" His voice was surprisingly soft though still hard as ice.

"The restraints make it impossible for us to cut off our own, right? So you cut off mine, then I'll cut off yours and we can get the hell out of here."

"How do I know that you won't bail on me as soon as you're free." The mistrust was plainly evident in his voice and with good reason he had made my life a living hell more times then I could count.

"…You have my word and besides only a Decepticon would leave someone behind to die."

"_Decepticon?_ What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, umm—it's a long story…Look Trent, I trusted you when I gave you the knife…trust me now…"

It was dead silent for what seemed like ages. I idly wondered if Trent had ever trusted anyone in his entire life.

"Fine, whatever Witwicky—get your ass over here."

As I moved towards him yet again, my fear level notched up—what if his hands slipped and my wrist got slashed?

I thought happy thoughts about Mikaela and Bee—painfully happy memories I would have given anything to go back and re-live. I felt his hands grab onto mine. They were warm now, and wet and slippery. It puzzled me for a second until I realized they were covered in his own blood.

I closed my eyes and tried not to babble nonsense. Then suddenly I felt a jerk on my wrist and the pressure went away. It was over so quick it was almost not real—only staring at my freed hands in the limited light assured me it was—I was free again...and this time Rilson and his gang were going down.

"Hey, Witwicky—what about me?" The fear in his voice was unmistakable this time.

I slipped the bloody knife from his hands and felt for the restraint on his wrists.

"You can call me Sam you know."


	7. Chapter 7: The End, Part One

School Shootout

Chapter Seven: The End (Part One of Two)

**Okay, I'm so sorry it's taken this long for me to update I just got so busy with schools and finals that I couldn't find the time. I want to thank SkyHighFan for their continued faith and enthusiasm about the story as well as everyone that is still reviewing. Have a Happy Holiday season.**

* * *

"With all due respect, Major, you're out of your jurisdiction."

It took every ounce of control Lennox had not to punch out the worthless SWAT commander. If it wasn't one thing it was another. It felt as if time had stopped and nobody was going anything-–except talk.

Truthfully, Lennox knew the SWAT commander was probably quite good at his job but when it came to one of his 'men' being in danger he wasn't always rational. Even so, he knew SWAT should have gone in by now and freed the student hostages. But he also knew that a hundred television cameras and millions of viewers tended to make a man more cautious. But damn it, if the commander didn't go in soon and stop this. He was going to do something himself. Maybe call in a favor to the Secretary of Defense—would that work?

He felt the urge to pound his head against his truck. Only stopping himself a moment before when he realized Ironhide probably wouldn't like it.

"Well, 'Hide I guess we're going to be waiting a little bit longer."

There was a long pause before Ironhide answered through his radio speakers.

"Sam, is resilent and has lived through more then I would have thought possible for a human. His actions today were as Mikaela stated earlier very heroic…even if he doesn't make it out he managed to save the lives of his classmates and that is what he will be remembered for."

Lennox stood staring at Ironhide; that was most he'd heard him say at one time. It occurred to Lennox that Ironhide was trying to comfort him. It did in a strange way but it also upset him for some reason.

The low grumble of the engine displayed Ironhide's feelings quite clearly. The bots were getting restless; they wanted to do something helpful. They had probably stood around waiting for news of friends and comrades more times then Lennox could ever count. Now they had to do it one more time…only this time they got to watch the ineptitude of humans and the absolute worse side of humanity—children killing children. That's what was really upsetting him.

"I'm going to go check on Bee and Mikaela…"

As I walked the short distance over to the yellow camaro my feelings of frustration and disappointment in humans only grew. I found I couldn't and didn't want to think about what was happening inside or the stories of how some of the kids and teachers had been brutally killed inside the school walls.

I heard a low soft melody coming from Bee's interior as I approached. It was strangely familiar but I thought I detected Cybertronian parts to it. Mikaela was it the passenger seat as usual but she was now clinging on to it and crying so softly I couldn't even hear her from right next to the car. Only the soft jerking motions of her shoulders and ragged breathing gave her away. I felt like I was intruding.

I placed a hand on Bee's hood.

"It won't be long now, these guys are pretty good—everything should turn out alright."

Even as I said the words I knew they sounded hollow. But I knew I had to say something, give some kind of reassurance. I started walking away slowly without glancing back but Mikaela crying haunted me anyway. I decided then that I was going to start calling people higher up on the command chain and see what I could do. Deep down I know it would be hopeless, nobody would be willing to break procedure with so many people watching, but I just needed to.

* * *

[meanwhile, back in the closet…]

I flipped on the lights and immediately shielded my eyes against the sudden brightness. I blinked furiously and from the sound of a low hiss from Trent he probably was too. Thankfully, it wasn't long before I could see again….I flinched when I first saw Trent. He had a massive black eye and his arms and hands were covered in blood. With a start I realized his blood was all over my hands as well. I stared at them in shock before practically throwing the knife onto the shelves and the wiping my hands off on my jeans as fast as I could. Ewww, ewww, eewww—gross.

I watched Trent carefully out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be looking for something. It final clicked when he nudged over a pile of cleaning rags---He was looking for something clean to bandage his hand with. I started looking around me and noticed the box that held the cutting knife had gym uniforms scrawled up in the corner of it. I went and cautiously opened it---I nearly sighed with a bit of relief when I saw those ugly gray shirts. I grabbed one off the top of the pile.

"Here," I held the shirt out to Trent.

"…Thanks…"

He carefully wrapped it around, grimacing as he tightened it.

"Looks like the bleeding might be slowing down…" I ventured trying to break the awkward silence that was starting to engulf us.

"Yeah, maybe."

I fidgeted. It was easier to dragged words out of Decepticons then it was Trent. I looked around the closet at nothing in particular.

"…So…Um…We should probably, you know—start planning a way out of here."

"Oh God, is that all you ever do---plan, plan, plan?"

"Hey, it's the best way to get out of a war-like situation is to have a well thought-out plan and to stick to it." I retorted as I recalled my very short and memorable lesson with Ironhide on warfare.

"Well thought out plan? I guess that rules out your plans."

I would have shot him a look of hate and anger but after everything I had gone through today I just couldn't bring myself to get angry at his childness and petty nature. Not to mention he didn't look very jockish and intimidating with a black eye and injured hand.

"If you have a plan feel free to voice it." I said as I went towards the door, checking it to make sure it was locked, before I started looking at the shelves again. I saw the knife where I had thrown it and starting wiping off the blood on it with another gym shirt from the box before retracting the blade and putting it in my pocket. Trent was almost finished bandaging his hand and for a minute I thought he wasn't going to answer me.

"We wait until they come back and then we jump them and get the hell out of here—sound like a good enough plan for you?"

"Yeah, there's only one problem how do you know they'll come back?"

"Cause they always come back."

Trent's words made me pause and glanced back towards him and I saw the way he was holding his ribs and suddenly his black eye made a lot more sense. I understood now why the closet was Riley's special place for troublemakers. I said a quick grateful prayer that I hadn't had to endure anything like that in the darkness.

I stopped my fruitless search of the closet.

"Okay…then….that sounds like a good plan…so we wait…"

…

…

….

…..

Waiting proved to be as stressful as being tied up had been. Neither of us spoke. It was like some unwritten rule we had agreed upon.

I wished I had worn a watch today. It seemed like we had been waiting for hours but I knew it was really only a fraction of the time. I found myself thinking back to all the things I wanted to say to Bee and Mikaela and my parents and even Miles—I had been so distant to him since Mission City. I spotted a schedule log and clipboard hanging from one of the shelves. I reached up and grabbed it a small pencil slipped out of the clip. I bent down and picked it up then found a blank sheet and started writing.

When I finished the letters were full of writing and though they were a little smudged in places and a some areas showed a great deal of erasure marks I knew they would appreciate them and just having writing the letters made me breathe a little easier. It was amazing how much I never gotten the chance to say to them.

"Hey, Sam, you done with that?"

Trent's voice startled me for a moment; I had forgotten he was there. I looked where he was pointing and was even more startled to see he was pointing to the clipboard and log sheets.

"Um…Yeah…"

I picked it up and brought it over to him. Trent stared at it for a long time before he began writing. I tried not to stare. I folded my papers up and placed them deep into my back pocket. I listened to the scratching of the pencil as I waited. It was little odd to think of Trent writing his heart out on a piece of paper. But he had parents too, maybe not the best of papers judging by his behavior but I hoped that if anything happened they would get his letter. No parent should have to wonder.

When he finished we went back to our silent vigil. It wasn't long before we heard the doorknob rattle and the sharp click of it unlocking.

Trent motioned me out of the way as he silently slid over beside the door. I let out a slow breath as I felt my muscles tightening. I moved closer to the door as well. I knew Trent could normally take anyone in the school but he wasn't in prime fighting shape. The moment the person stepped in Trent good hand came up into a fist and punched him in the face. He staggered back, away from Trent, and towards me. I grabbed onto his shirt and threw him into the wall and let loose a punch of my own. I distantly realized it was Steve before I felt pain explode in my knuckles as I made contact.

"Awww, God, awww…."

Trent was beside me in the next instant, giving Steve another punch, and another, and another…

"Enough, enough, TRENT, he's out cold…Stop."

Trent finally stopped and I could see Steve lying on the floor not moving. For a moment I thought he was dead before I realized he was still breathing. I belatedly thought of the small knife in my pocket. I was glad I had the knife. Lord only knows what might have happened if Trent had hat it.

"Alright let's lock him in here and get moving before Rilson notices he's missing."


	8. Chapter 8: The End, Part Two

School Shootout

Chapter Eight: The End (Part Two of Two)

**Thanks for reviews, you were awesome readers and fans, I hope you enjoy the ending.**

* * *

I was nearly shaking with suppressed terror and excitement. I looked back at Trent and saw that he was actually following me. I waited until he was out of the closet before relocking it. I looked down the hallways but didn't see anyone in either direction. I didn't know which way to go.

If we went right we'd end up back in the locker rooms with the other hostages…and Riley with his gun. If we went left we might be able to slip out a side door and get to the police and tell them what we knew.

I turned back to Trent and used the basic military hand signals you see on television to indicate we should go left. Trent jerked his thumb down the right hallway.

I stared at him like he was insane. Then quickly shook my head. I mouthed 'Riley' and made a gun out of hand then pointed down the left hallway and mouthed 'help cops.'

Trent relented and gestured for me to go ahead.

I slowly started creeping down the hallway. Only looking back once at Trent and miming hand signals to tell him he should continue to stay quiet, though, from the way he rolled his eyes and mouthed 'idiot' he didn't appreciate the friendly reminder.

We came to a T-intersection. I stopped just before we got to it and listened to see if there was anyone down the other halls. I waited for a few minutes but I didn't hear anything so I cautiously slid against the wall till it ended and then quickly peer around the corner. It was clear. I thanked God for giving me some good luck, finally; though as soon as I did I developed this feeling that it was going to go away in just a few minutes.

* * *

"Lennox, I believe the SWAT team is mobilizing."

Lennox quickly put his phone away and looked towards the school. Ironhide was right they were finally getting ready to go into the school.

"It's about time."

"Yes, but if you had let me use my cannons we could have resolved this situation hours ago."

"Yeah, while letting the entire world know of your existence."

"…Wouldn't of been that bad once they actually gotten a chance to see my cannons—Who wouldn't appreciate them in a battle?"

"Decepticons?"

Ironhide snorted and Lennox managed a small smile. But they fell back into silence as the SWAT team ringed the school and finally went inside with their deadly guns loaded and ready to fire.

* * *

I creeped around the corner and started moving forward again. We were started to go past classrooms again, only all of the ones in this hall had opened doors. I stopped as we came to them to look inside and make sure no one was inside—friendly or otherwise.

Trent grew impatient and pushed me out of the way after the third classroom. He charged onwards at a much faster pace, not bothering to look at the classrooms.

I stood frozen in place for a moment. I didn't want to be alone again but I didn't think it was safe to rush ahead like he was. I settled for following at a distance and glancing into the classrooms as I passed.

It wasn't until Trent was almost at the end of the hallway before I realized the staircase and side door to the outside would be just off to his left---then I remembered the sounds of someone sharpening a knife on the staircase when I had been trying to get everyone out from the upstairs classrooms.

I fought every instinct I had to yell out 'Trent.' If someone was on the stairs it would only alert them. But I couldn't leave Trent to get stabbed to death---he was a jerk, but he wasn't that big of a jerk. Damn it. I found the box cutter knife in my hands, I started running to him.

I was only a couple yards away when he turned back to look at me. I stared past him. Something was moving in the shadows…

Trent looked at me in fear. Too late I realized he thought **I** was attacking him.

The next thing I saw was a black blur knocking Trent down. And someone else coming at me I tried to slash with the knife to defend myself but they grabbed me the wrist and I ended up being slammed into the concrete floor with a hand over my mouth. I was breathing heavily, expecting to be stabbed and killed at any second but nothing happened. I twisted my head around to look up. The first thing I saw was the white letters S.W.A.T.

Oh, Crap—I'd attacked a SWAT officer.

I saw Trent out of the corner of my eye talking softly to another officer. Mine put a finger to his lips signaling that I should be quiet. I nodded my head so he knew that I understood, then he slowly removed his hand. Some more officers went past us as two of them led me and Trent out to the side door.

I nearly cried when I walked outside and saw the rows of police officers and medical personnel. They rushed us off to the nearest ambulance. I waved the paramedics off and tried to get them to focus on Trent but a few latched themselves onto me.

It was hardly three minutes since I stepped outside before I was getting stinging antiseptic put on my ankles and wrists. A officer came over and we gave him an abbreviated version of what had happened to us and what we knew. He smiled and thanked us, then left us with the paramedics. Who were starting to get to blood pressure cuffs and stethoscope phase of our treatment.

"Hey Sam, you still alive over there?"

"Yeah, Trent, you gonna live too?"

"Pretty sure I am. So don't get your hopes up."

"You know it may surprise you but just because you're a jerk doesn't mean I want you dead and I think I proved that inside."

"Well you did try to save me from that SWAT officer…"

"Yeah, you should be really grateful for that—cause you know---who knows what could have happened….and ….well anyway….. I'm grateful you help me take down Steve and get out of there…"

"…………………Same here……………"

They decided they need to take him to a hospital and check for internal injuries. The loaded him up into a different ambulance and I was left alone with my paramedics. As I watched the other ambulance leave I spotted a large black truck over by the road.

"Okay, Mr. Witwicky? I'm going to get you a shot of this and its going to help bring down your heart rate and breathing okay?"

"What? No, I don't want a…a…sedative-thing, I'm perfectly fine and there's some friends—family—that I need to go talk to….and one of them is an amazing doctor I'm sure he'll torture my with a hundred different tests and scans and shoot me full of meds----So, I'm good, totally good…"

"I really think you should take this---it'll help you."

"Lennox!" I nearly shouted his name as he appeared like magic. I gave him my very best 'please help me look.'

The next second, to my surprise, I found myself in a large bear hug.

"Don't you ever scare us like that ever again---I'm serious---never again. Now get your but over to Bee and Mikaela before one of them blows a gasket and Ratchet should be here in five minutes so enjoy what peace you have until then."

I laughed, I actually laughed and started off towards where I had left Bee in the parking lot that morning.

"But—hey—you can't let that kid go---I'm not done with him…He needs to be properly checked out."

I turned back and watched Lennox stonewall the medic as I made my escape.

It seemed like it took forever to reach Bee but when I did it was more then worth it. I practically threw myself into the interior and held Mikaela as tightly as she was holding me while running a hand across Bee's dash and babbling to both of them how much I loved them and how they were the best in the world and made spur-of-the-moment promises to never leave them.

That's how Ratchet found us a few minutes later and was eventually forced to discreetly scan me through Bee's interior because I refused to come out.

We left the parking lot before the SWAT team had come back out; though eventually we learned that they shot and killed Rilson and Paul in the locker rooms without losing any of the hostages (though a few were injured and taken to the hospital) and they recovered Steve from the closet (he faces a lot of jail time).

We headed to the lookout and met Prime there. Ratchet got to take more in-depth scans as Bee held me protectively in his hand. I gave them a quick run-down of what had happened and how I had gotten my injuries. Ratchet was not at all happy about my injuries but they were non-life threatening so everyone else was happy. They all told me how grateful they were that I was alive and how proud they were of me.

I told them the truth---that I had learned everything from them. Then I told them all the things I had put in my letters—the things I had wanted to tell them but had never gotten the chance—how I admired their courage, their faith, their hope, their unswerving devotion to those not as strong as them. How they stood up for what they believed in.

I was a better person because of them and I hoped that when the world finally learned the truth about them all humans would learn to become better people too.


End file.
